


return closure;

by TheCreepingShadow



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betaed, Closure, Gen, Guilt, Missing Scene, One Shot, POV Third Person Limited, Psychological Drama, The Murkoff Account-based, Tragedy, Trauma, Victim Blaming, What-If, confronting the past, mentions of human experimentation, mentions of psychosomatic pregnancies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCreepingShadow/pseuds/TheCreepingShadow
Summary: Following the assault on her and the discovery that the child she had struggled for was never real, Michelle Haas seeks one last answer to her dilemma.
Kudos: 2





	return closure;

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to do a slight divergence from my current main project, Purgatorium, to present this one shot that has been on my mind for a while. Despite my gripes with certain aspects of the comic, it is still able to inspire quite a few things. Like this story obviously! 
> 
> Highlighting a rather minor character, who, however, had a large impact - it is possible I took liberties with Michelle's characterization since little information is given on her. But the topic presented was an interesting one to me; I kept wondering how she would react if she found out what happened to Rick following the assault. So here you have a one shot based on this.
> 
> Special thank you to FateDriven aka richardtrager on Tumblr for beta reading and adding fuel to this story's concept! They are awesome, and you should check out their fanfiction as well!
> 
> I'd really appreciate feedback - so if you read the story, please let me know what you think!

A suffocating, almost _tangible_ , silence prevailed inside of the narrow cabin as it descended way below ground level. With every passing metre the walls felt as though they drew closer and closer, threatening to crush the cabin's three occupants any moment. The closed doors and the gridded hatch above them offered no comfort – there was no escaping the situation. This was a one-way. Only once the elevator reached the basement would the doors open and reveal the very bowels of the facility meant to be seen by a mere select few.

Michelle's heart thumped. Breathing in and out, she tried to maintain her calm, reassuring herself with the fact that _she_ has made the conscious decision to go through with this way. This was what she had wanted – not without having met some initial objections on the part of her two escorts though, Insurance Mitigation officer Pauline Glick and the Executive Vice President of Global Development Jeremy Blaire himself. Indeed, the latter had not even wanted either of the women to set another foot on asylum grounds due to the discovery of the psychosomatic pregnancies having befallen a good third of all former female employees at the hospital. A condition Michelle herself had gained personal – and utmost anguishing – experiences with... Perhaps it was this fact, combined with the limited time proposed for this particular visit, that dulled the displeasure the head of Mount Massive Asylum experienced. Given that she had agreed to the terms of the severance package, her silence in regards to anything transpiring in the asylum was guaranteed anyway, including her own past predicament – the core reason for Michelle's visit in the first place.

The scar on her abdomen burned upon remembering this particular event, causing her to put her hand over the source of the pain. Quite some time has passed since her emergency hospital stay – the deep stab wound has become nothing more than a stitched, pale, yet tender line across the middle of her torso by now – but the physical and emotional pain still stayed with her as if it all had just happened yesterday. These sentiments would follow her for the rest of her life, she knew. At least the severance package provided a small, albeit bitter, mercy. And today she would gain some much needed disclosure. One final answer to see the complete end of her dilemma, to see where it has ultimately brought her former tormentor to. Perhaps this would give her _some_ peace of mind, though seeing where she was being taken right now, this hope remained restrained. She was not new to this part of the asylum after all.

The elevator finally came to a stop with a minor jolt. The doors slid open, allowing entrance to the short hallway leading to the underground's main lobby. Blaire and Glick exited the cabin first, Michelle following suit. They passed through the double door at the end of the corridor, arriving at the huge circular hall with one large reception desk in the middle and two screens displaying the Murkoff Corporation logo and the one for Project Walrider – the essence of the asylum's underground research. The temperature appeared much colder than in any of the above levels. The bright grey floor and walls of the lobby, the dark pillars reaching to the ceiling, the white lights illuminating the hall, as well as the large tubes running along the left wall behind large glass panes gave the place a rather bleak look.

Two paramilitary officers flanked the entrance to the lobby, unmoving, casting only a brief glance at the three arrivals. A security guard sat behind the desk, mustering them as they approached him. As the underground’s safety protocol required, Blaire and Glick quickly introduced themselves, stating the reason for their presence without going too much into detail - not that they needed to at this point. Michelle stood in silence, her sight alternating between the employees, shortly halting on the guard when his attention shifted to her. Afterwards he typed something into his computer before giving the trio his permission to proceed through the airlock on the right side of the hall. With a push of an unseen button, the light on the panel beside the airlock turned from red to green.

Without any further words the trio continued to the airlock, all carefully stepping inside, keeping a minor distance from each other as they positioned themselves in the small hall, before the door behind them locked and the air exchange sequence started, announced by a robotic monotone voice. A short hiss resounded in the airlock - and even though Michelle was already acquainted with this entire procedure, the sudden loud noise almost made her cringe. Familiarity would help her little in coping with anything she would encounter in the underground - the associated memories of her work were not exactly pleasant ones, nor could she claim any sense of pride in them which could have otherwise soothed some of her anxiety.

Once the sequence was completed, the second door opened, each person exiting the airlock one by one, stepping into the first underground block proper. White bricks made up the walls of the long hallway stretching before them while a covering resembling ice graced the high ceiling. Several double doors on the left led to some of the laboratories while various gas canisters stood right next to them.

Michelle kept following Blaire and Glick through the block’s hallways, passing a few officers and scientists on their way, all either occupied with their own thoughts ignoring them or merely glimpsing at the trio in silence as they went wherever their work demanded them to be, faint surprise detectable in their faces. The nearly maze-like structure of the passageways led them closer to the underground’s core until they eventually passed several patient chambers, some empty, some occupied and locked with heavy metal doors. Their inmates showed varying degrees of disfiguration - the experiments they have been forced to undergo definitely left permanent marks on their bodies… and minds. Hollow eyes followed their every step as they went by the large panes. Even though Michelle forced herself to look away from the patients, she could not keep gazing forward at the backs of her escorts for long. A glance to the side allowed for an unwanted better examination of the afflicted men’s faces. Anger and despair felt palpable - the way the patients looked made it evident that a part of their very being has been taken away from them with only shallow shells of their former selves remaining. No one who was put into the Morphogenic Engine - the heart of Project Walrider - ever came out of it the same. Not even employees were entirely safe from its effects. Just what would await Michelle at the end of this trip? Has _he_ ultimately met the same fate as these tormented patients in the chambers?

Michelle felt a knot in her stomach as a cold shiver ran down her spine. Neither Glick nor Blaire seemed concerned about her state of mind - either she hid it well enough or they simply did not care. In fact, they rarely turned around to her, merely guiding her to the appointment they have set up for her.

Finally, they moved through a double door, ending up in a shorter but broad corridor with three doors, one on each side. The labels to their right revealed that these were consultation rooms, normally reserved for therapy conversations (though _interrogations_ might be a more fitting term given the unique circumstances of this hospital) between the patients and their assigned doctors. Today would be an exception for one particular subject. The thought alone that she would meet him here of all places again sufficed to increase her pulse and further fuel this nasty premonition she has had occurring in her mind ever since Blaire and Glick hinted at what they had done after the assault on her. She had wanted him fired or transferred, indeed... She had never specified to herself just where to with the latter option.

They stopped in front of the right door, room number three.

Blaire turned to Michelle after casting a small glance at the silver watch on his left wrist. “This is where we have arranged the meeting. The patient should be brought in soon. I hope you’ll get the answers you were seeking, Miss Haas. The entire conversation will be monitored. Don’t take too long.”

A faint smirk went over Glick's lips. “A fair word of warning, although I’m sure you are already aware of this: the therapy brings about some lasting changes to the patients. Whether for the better or the worse is for you to judge. We made sure that our mutual _friend_ got just what he needed.”

“Well, let’s not make Miss Haas wait any longer and further unnerve her. A security guard is going to escort you out once you’re done,” Blaire remarked, stepping aside from the door.

Michelle inhaled, observing the frame and then the two Murkoff employees one last time before thanking them for bringing her here. She opened the door carefully and entered the consultation room. It was divided into two parts by a long desk and a sturdy pane stretching across it, connected to the ceiling. Two chairs stood in the centre on opposite sides of the desk where several circular holes were carved into the pane, likely allowing communication. One security camera was mounted in the right upper corner of each room half. Another door could be seen on the far left behind the pane. Among the white walls the red emergency button close to the door on her half stood out especially. Never too safe…

With hesitant steps she approached the chair on her side and seated herself, putting her lower arms on the desk, folding her hands together. Her sight remained unfocused, changing from her red-painted fingernails to the desk, then to the camera opposite to her, and back to the desk again.

How long she remained sitting alone in the room waiting for someone to come in she did not know. With only her own heartbeat and breathing to listen to, with her growing anxiety and uncertainty, it felt like an eternity. Some part of her scolded herself for wishing to confront the source of much of her trauma once again with the scars still fresh. However, she would be safe now, she knew; _hoped_. There was nothing he could do to her any more.

Michelle closed her eyes, breathed in, and opened them again, quickly turning her head towards the other door when several male voices sounded right behind it. In the next second the door opened and a patient entered the room. Behind him Michelle could spot two security guards for a brief moment before the door closed. She could not make out the details of the man’s features at first since he was halfway turned away from her. He wore the standard patient clothes consisting of a grey shirt with some type of weighted collar on top of it and grey loose trousers. His wrists featured chainless shackles resembling heavy wristbands. Thin, unkempt grey hair hung down to his shoulders with the upper part of his scalp bald.

When the man finally shifted his attention to her, Michelle felt her heart drop. For a short moment she did not even recognize the person, so much has changed about him. Richard Trager had always had a lean body type, but in his current form he looked downright malnourished. His skin has paled to an almost sickly colour. Several scars and stitches traversed his narrow face. A medical eye patch covered his left eye - though Michelle quickly began to suspect there might be no eye behind it at all to begin with. The right eye - of the same light brown colour and almond shape she remembered from him - stared at her with a piercing glance. A variety of emotions seemed to go over his features at once. He tilted his head ever so slightly as he slowly approached the chair on his side of the room and sat down right across her. Even though only a few months have passed, he looked like he had aged several years at once.

Michelle gathered all her courage and looked Rick into his eye, not daring to avert her sight from him. She would not falter before him today - and yet, a nagging feeling rose within her as she further observed his disfigurements, threatening to tear her apart from the inside. Human Resources had taken care of her issue, but in a way she had least expected. She knew she should feel alleviated from a heavy burden, even happy that the former executive had not gotten away with his wrongdoings and had been punished for them - a sense of _justice_. Sitting in the consultation room and seeing the truth of his downfall in front of her right now however, not having any child to worry about because it had never even been real in the first place, Michelle could not claim any satisfaction.

It wasn’t long before Rick broke the silence first, letting out a nigh-forced chuckle. 

“Now here's a face I wouldn't have expected to ever see again. I was told it was a special appointment, but I can't say I saw _this_ coming. I didn't think Murkoff allowed visitations any more… if they ever did. Can't risk people blabbering out their secrets willy-nilly,” Rick spoke, his tone casual as if he wasn't facing the same person he had attacked in a haze of unbridled rage. “But I'm sure an employee like yourself can keep to herself just fine, hm?” A sliver of a smile crossed over his lips, but this display of friendliness did not extend to his eye.

Michelle did not dare to show any emotions just yet, observing her opposite carefully. She knew the man before her well, his ways; had become acquainted with his true colours first hand to her detriment. How far did the Engine's influence reach in his case though?

“Hello to you too, Rick,” Michelle said.

Rick leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Well, this change of pace is appreciated I suppose. All of these consultations and therapy sessions can be such a _drag_.” A pause, followed by a sigh. “So, uh... I realize I might have acted a little... harshly the last time we met. How’ve you been? Busy with motherly duties? Go ahead, tell me about the kid... _if_ it’s alive. So much time has passed.”

An invisible rope tightened around Michelle's throat for a brief moment before it quickly loosened – this was a wound that has almost healed as Michelle came to accept the reality, with a hollow feeling remaining. Though it hasn't occurred to her that Rick might inquire about the child himself, given his past desperate attempts at getting rid of it. She reckoned he might prefer to ignore it; pretend it didn't exist. But then again, perhaps he sought some disclosure as well.

Michelle breathed in before she answered, “There is no child. There has never been one. It was a false pregnancy induced by the experiments performed on this level. At least this is what I've been told... I wasn't the only one affected – many women in the asylum experienced the same symptoms before the company decided to relocate them eventually.”

Rick opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words escaped him. He kept looking at Michelle with the same faint smile he had been wearing during their encounter so far, but it faltered as his sight wandered somewhere to the side. He cocked his head, remaining silent for a few seconds before righting himself, placing his arms on the desk, and focusing his eye back on her.

“Now, isn't that interesting? There was a reason we didn't have female patients for a long time... Didn't figure the same phenomenon could affect employees as well. I wonder why no one bothered to look into it sooner,” Rick said eventually. He let out a short chuckle again, just a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. “Ah, well, whatcha gonna do? No Trager Junior to worry about after all. Much ado about nothing that was, huh? Look at the bright side – kids are nothing but financial leeches anyway.”

“Why?” 

A curt, yet precise question. One that hadn't taken any solid shape in Michelle's head before she came here, but one that had lingered in the back of her mind ever since the ordeal had taken place itself. Just now she could finally lay it out. Rick tilted his head ever so slightly as if to ask to specify.

“Has it really been worth it? You had threatened to have me fired if I didn't get rid of this child; insisted on it over and over again. Your... attack at H.R, no matter the circumstances,” Michelle elaborated, trying to keep a steady voice. Yet it started to crack as she continued, her eyes stinging as these words came out. Her sight lowered to her hands. “You put me through all this... for what? You could not have just left me alone. _Why?_ ” She looked up again.

The former executive leaned back in his chair once more, mustering her with a neutral expression before his visible eyebrow lowered ever so slightly in a frown.

“A guy's gotta do what he’s gotta do,” Rick replied matter-of-factly. “It takes a lot to achieve the position I did in the company, and I couldn’t just let a yappy software engineer and a snotty little rugrat get in the way of my success. A corporation is a lot like a machine – you have to keep the cogwheels nice, greasy, and running. When one isn't working the way it's supposed to, it needs to be repaired or replaced, simple as that. Did you really think I was going to let you off the hook?”

He sighed afterwards, his voice trailing off into a mumble. “Not that it matters now.” Before Michelle could even consider her own words, Rick continued, looking her right into her eyes with a penetrating stare. “Now that I know the child wasn't _real_ to begin with, allow me to throw your question right back at ya: why did you go through all this to jeopardize me for an unwanted kid that doesn't even exist? You could've made everything easier on _yourself_ if you just did as I told you. But no, you had to open your mouth before finding out the state of your own goddamned pregnancy.”

“I... There is no way I could have known. _You_ didn't know. I was not going to suffer because of your refusal to take responsibility for your own actions, Rick. _You_ imposed this burden on me, and I wasn't going to just watch and silently abide by your selfish threat. Even if you were a Murkoff executive, I couldn't let you get away with your _habits_ any longer, for the baby's sake and _mine_.” Michelle retorted, feeling sharp claws digging into her heart. Of course Rick still refused to see his culpability. It was always easier to blame others after all. She should have expected such a reaction from him, but it did not hurt any less.

“Well then, congratulations for achieving what you wanted in the end! If getting me a cosy place front-row to the Morphogenic Engine is what you wanted. You played the system!” A false smile went over Rick's face. “Now you don’t have to worry about me. I'm _positive_ the kid will appreciate the sacrifice you made when it grows up and learns what happened to daddy dearest. Oh, wait...”

The smile vanished. Rick's gaze turned into a glare, giving him a rather sinister appearance. Almost as sinister as when he had barged into the office that day... The former executive's chest rose and fell with his breaths getting heavier. 

Against all reason the stinging in her heart intensified as Michelle observed her opposite's changing demeanour, a nasty feeling arising from deep within her. The Morphogenic Engine was a one-way ticket for everyone submitted to it, former employee or otherwise. The therapy was not a temporary fate – every patient would spend the rest of their life here. An incredibly shortened one, she fathomed. Michelle knew little about the details of the therapy and all it encompassed, having dealt with the technical aspects of the asylum's operations, exposed more to computers and the data contained within than the patients themselves. She had seen enough though to know just how grizzly Project Walrider could truly get. Rick's appearance only further proved it.

Self-imposed as his fate was, Michelle could not deny the realization that she still had had a hand in this, in her attempt at getting him out of the picture. Was this what she had wanted, truly? Was this what firing or _transferring_ a Murkoff higher-up entailed after all? For him to become another test subject to be thrown into the Engine's maw? She could not deny she had been complicit with what was happening in the asylum in some way, but she had never experienced satisfaction from it and would never do any more harm than necessary. On the other hand... she could not have known. Murkoff had always been keen to sweep troublesome matters under the rug; only potential leaks evoked their genuine attention. It had not even occurred to her that the company would be willing to toss one of their own executives down so deep. A mere _slap_ to his face had seemed more probable.

One way or another, Michelle had acted in a sense of self-preservation. He had not batted an eye at the idea of firing her and delivering not only her, but also a child to a difficult life. Few would have spared her a second thought, much less Rick himself. The attempt on her life in a desperate last ditch effort to get rid of _proof_ had only confirmed it. In the light of this, Michelle really should not feel torn at all right now, but still... A prison sentence would have been more befitting. Meanwhile, the Morphogenic Engine was worse than a death sentence.

Michelle inhaled with a shaky breath, fumbling with her thumbs. “I did not make the decision to have you committed as a patient. I wanted to get you out of the asylum somehow, but not like this.. I did what was necessary to keep my place. Matters were already set when I told them everything at H.R. I had agreed to keep silent in exchange for a severance package that should help me raise the child. But then you barged in... and had to ruin everything for yourself. It shouldn’t have come to this.”

She swallowed, feeling how dry sobs were building up within her. More out of hurt over the past or over the present, she could not quite tell.

“This doesn't change the fact that you sent the email that framed me for this supposed leak originally. Don't think I hadn’t figured that one out when that shrew Glick came snooping in my own house the same day she and her partner had investigated the leak,” Rick spoke, scoffing. “C'mon, sweetheart, Murkoff doesn't work this way – you should have known better. You’ve worked for them for quite some time and seen enough of the company's machinations to know that displacing an employee elsewhere for such a leak just wouldn't cut it. No, any potential threat has to be silenced permanently. It’s always been this way. You can soothe yourself all you want, tell yourself this wasn't your doing – you created this risk the very moment you chose to send the email. And, truth be told, I could have done without this 'therapy'. Murkoff can use me as a fine test subject for whatever they damn well desire and something tells me my eye isn’t going to grow back; thank you very much.”

He crossed his arms again, the movement less casual and more strained this time. The same glare remained on his face. Whatever might have remained of his former feigned friendliness had disappeared for good from his features. His eye betrayed his real emotions.

Michelle straightened her back. She would not let these accusations get to her. Not after all these months of dealing with her memories. No matter the lurking sense of guilt she harboured. It all could have been avoided if just...

“You can keep blaming me all you want, Rick. You can keep denying your mistakes that got you into this,” she countered, shaking her head. “Throwing you into the program was not what I wanted. I wanted to have you fired or translocated to a different facility at the very least, not create yet another test subject. I'm sorry Murkoff decided to subject you to all of this instead, but it could have been avoided. I refuse to take any responsibility for your actions. It's yourself you have to thank for it having had to come this far. Glick, Marion, Blaire... _Everybody_ knows that.”

Rick's eye narrowed when she finished her last sentence, his jaw tensed. He sat in silence for a few seconds before breaking it.

“Does it matter? I am where I am, and nothing is going to change this any time soon,” he replied, irritation mixing into his tone. “Murkoff's done away with Rick the executive, and you have your freedom. What more could you possibly ask for? I hope it was worth it. If the sole reason for your little visit was to pick at me and you have nothing else important to say, you wouldn't mind calling it quits? There are a lot of things I still have to take care of. The patients don't deliver themselves to their treatment, ya know.”

A shift in Rick's voice accompanied his last two sentences. Michelle could not quite determine what appeared so _off_ about the sudden casualness of that claim – it was as if he was speaking about work and not being subjected to whatever tests were planned out for him after the visit as she might have assumed. This change extended to his expression, though pinpointing exactly what it was proved to be difficult. Whatever it was, it managed to send shivers down her spine. Perhaps she just imagined it thanks to her stress. She did not dare to inquire though. She felt the conversation had come to an end.

Michelle stood up from her chair, slowly, not letting her sight off of Rick who followed her every movement. She sighed. 

“Again, I'm really sorry it had to end this way. Seeing what became of you after everything only seemed fair. I hope the trouble was worth it.” 

She turned to leave, not without saying one final word. 

“Farewell.”

Not waiting until Rick would reply in some way, Michelle exited the consultation room, leaving the former executive behind never to be seen again. She finally got the closure she had desired over the past few months. And even though it seemed that little has changed about his attitude – even with all the consequences he had faced thanks to his own folly, him refusing to face the truth of the reason for his predicament – Michelle could feel _some_ burden lifting from her chest. Her personal life chapter of “Mount Massive Asylum” has reached an end for good, even if it has come at a great price. It would still take a long time to fully digest these haunting memories associated with this place, but confronting her fears today, seeing Rick on equal grounds, provided an important stepping stone on this path to coping she felt. 

Outside the room she stood waiting for a security guard to escort her out of the underground, just as she had been told. While she waited, her vision blurred as tears, ones she did not realize she had been holding back all the time up until now, ran down her face.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it, hate it? I can't know if you don't tell me!


End file.
